Anniversary
by Rhys1
Summary: A songfic written as a gift for the amazing women over at the Hentai Institute. Goten and Trunks contemplate their relationship over the years in a series of POV vignettes. A bit sappy. Yaoi/Slash.


1 Disclaimer: Not my characters.  
  
Author's Note: This fic is based on the song "Anniversary Song" by the Cowboy Junkies, and the art "Picture of You" by mi m'o. This was written as a Valentine's gift to the women over at the Hentai Institute, mi m'o and *Angelus. It's really just a fluffy piece, because all of my other stories tend to include either hard core sex and/or lotsa angst. If you're interested in really great DBZ fanfic, check out these ladies' website, but be warned: they pull punches for no man. (http://www.angelfire.com/va3/vegetalovers/)  
  
* * * * *  
  
2  
  
3  
  
Goten sat at the kitchen table, running his finger down the cold porcelain of the coffee mug handle, staring idly into space. He enjoyed this time in the morning, right before dawn, when everything was quiet in the house, the only interruption intermittent bird song. It was a good time to think, but also a good time to be still and think of nothing much. He almost missed the soft pad of bare feet behind him, noticing only a few seconds before he felt a warm hand on the back of his neck.  
  
He looked up smiling expectantly, and Trunks leaned down to brush a soft kiss across his waiting lips. "Morning," Goten murmured. "What are you doing up so early?"  
  
"Mm, I just thought I'd join you for once," Trunks responded, kissing the side of Goten's neck before turning around and rummaging through the cupboards.  
  
"Coffee's already brewing," Goten pointed out with amusement as Trunks gave up his search. The lavender haired man just shrugged his broad shoulders with a little laugh.  
  
"Not all awake yet," he said ruefully, rubbing a hand through all that hair roughly. Goten smiled, and watched as Trunks stretched languorously, noting the play of muscles under delicately bronzed skin. The loose black silk of his pyjama bottoms hid his compactly sleek legs, but Goten knew them well enough by now. Still, he watched the teasing hints of them as Trunks stretched to pull down a mug and walked over to the table, flopping down next to Goten.  
  
Pulling his eyes from their rapturous visual inhalation of his beloved, Goten glanced out the window again. The black of the sky was slowly succumbing to a deep indigo, heralding the impending arrival of dawn. "Seriously, Trunks, why are you up? You don't work today…you usually like to sleep in."  
  
4 ~Have you ever seen a sight as beautiful  
  
as that of the rain-soaked purple  
  
of the white birch in spring?~  
  
"Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you. Especially today." Trunks' voice was earnest, but warm, and he reached out to snag Goten's hand, squeezing it gently, running his thumb over the back of the younger man's knuckles. "Do you remember," he asked suddenly, "That rainstorm…oh, it must have been in April-April showers, right?-back when we were kids….oh, Dende, I was, what, seven? So you would have been six…remember? And we were supposed to be going to my great-aunt's funeral…"  
  
"I remember." Goten's face crinkled in a delighted smile, his black eyes lighting in memory. "Oh, we got in so much trouble because of you!"  
  
A pair of blue eyes looked back at him, almost dreamily, "That's not what I remember best about it though…"  
  
**Mama was going to be so mad at me when I got back! But I just couldn't wait around, see all those relatives, their faces smashed and smeared by their grief, like ink drawings left in the rain. There was nowhere in the house that would hide me, so I ducked into the kitchen, got you from under your mom's nose, and we just took off running, out into the little woods that backed the church. It was raining…not hard yet, just a little sprinkle that left a dust of shimmering glitter in your black hair.  
  
"We're going to get in big trouble, Trunks!" you protested. Was there ever an adventure we had that wasn't prefaced by your lamentations of punishments promised? I never cared, though, and as we chased each other under the trees, I slowly forgot what I was running from, except you.  
  
The rain started to come down harder, and we both had spreading stains of darkness from the shoulders of our uncomfortable suits creeping down our chests. It was me who took that itchy jacket off first, swinging it over my head with a war cry, trying to catch you with it. You yelped when one of the ugly brass buttons on the sleeve caught your butt, and you ran faster, scooting forward to keep that tender part of your anatomy out of reach. I think you got ahead of me and my longer legs because I was spending so much time laughing at you!  
  
I thought for sure I was going to catch you when you went up that tree; shimmying up the trunk like a monkey, little flakes of white bark drifting down like premature snow, hitting my face more gently than the now pounding rain. I almost caught you when you slid down two feet, fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick bark, but you kicked out like a damn mule, knocking me off and propelling yourself to a higher branch. The small leaves on the tree shook with your passage, shivering darkly. They were a strange murky shade of green, almost purple  
  
I sat there, on my ass in the mud, staring up at you. The rain had plastered your black hair to your head, and it was hanging in your face as you stared out from behind it, eyes huge. I couldn't stop laughing…you just looked so funny crouching up there like some wild-eyed native from a Tarzan movie!  
  
"Stop laughing at me!" you hollered. Furious, you ripped off that terrible brown jacket that matched your dad's, and you dumped it on my head. I kept laughing in the darkness that smelled like you, and with a scream of outrage, you quit your perch and jumped on me, pummeling me furiously, like a cat in a burlap sack.  
  
When we finally made it back to the church, covered in mud, our Sunday best completely shredded…**  
  
5  
  
~Have you ever felt more fresh or wonderful  
  
than on a warm fall night  
  
under a Mackerel sky  
  
the smell of grapes on the wind?~  
  
Goten smiled into his hand, shaking his head at the recollection. "You always were getting us in hot water, Trunks," he said fondly, and the older man grinned back, entranced by the open face of the other.  
  
"Hey, what can I say, I'm a risk taker. It got me you, didn't it?" Trunks put a little swagger into his voice, watching Goten intently, pleased at the slight stain of crimson tickling his cheeks.  
  
"Yeah, I guess it did." Goten's voice was low, intimate, and the young prince thrilled to the sound of it. Goten was such a lovely package of modesty and sensuality combined in one long, lean form. "You know, that reminds me…remember our first time camping out at your grandma's?"  
  
**I could feel the breeze on the back of my neck, a distant reminder of summers past tickling the hair there. Of course, I had to set up the tent, you had come up with some excuse about outranking me because you were older. I think that was our soldier phase, which came and went with the autumn, to be forgotten when we both decided that doing Search and Rescue in the Swiss Alps was much more exciting. So you directed, and I ignored you, and nearly made a botch of it. Which you accused me of doing on purpose to make you have to do all the work, which led to another rolling- in-the-dirt-rabbit-punch-in-the-back-of-the-neck fight.  
  
When we finally decided to stop, the sun was sneaking below the horizon, creeping from the night. I pulled out the dinner my mom had packed, and it was you that suggested the campfire…in the middle of your grandma's garden! I think you would have done it, too, set the whole thing ablaze if you hadn't lost interest when your stomach started growling.  
  
Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, no crusts, cut diagonally, were hardly the fare of mighty outdoorsmen, but they sure tasted good, supplemented with a couple of crab apples we had nabbed on the way there. Far distant stomachaches were nothing to the lure of freshly stolen fruit. We turned our backs to the sun, staring up at the first stars of the evening as we ate, sprawled in the grass.  
  
"Trunks," I asked, mouth full of sticky peanut butter and white bread, "How come your mom and dad aren't married?"  
  
You blinked at me with those intense blue eyes, and answered me a little huffily. "Well, because they don't want to be."  
  
"I thought everybody who loved each other got married. Don't your mom and dad love each other?" I asked, confident in my nine-year-old reasoning.  
  
"Well, I guess they do. But they don't hafta get married. If everyone who loved somebody had to get married, you'd be married to your _brother_, stupid." You rolled your eyes, so knowing at 11. I pondered this, flopping back on the grass, feeling the tickle of ants at the back of my head. You lay down next to me, staring companionably at the wisps of cloud that drifted overhead, gently underlit.  
  
A waft of jasmine, then the sweet-sharp bite of grapes drifted over us. "Trunks? Let's sleep out here tonight, okay?"  
  
"Okay."**  
  
~Well I have known all these things  
  
and the joys that they can bring.  
  
And I'll share them all for a cup of coffee  
  
and to wear your ring.~  
  
The sharp scent of the strong coffee percolated lazily through the air as the weak sunlight began to filter through the window. Goten woke himself from his reverie slowly, noticing that Trunks was resting his chin in his hands, staring at him with a slightly sleepy smile. "Coffee's going to be ready soon," he noted.  
  
"Yeah," Goten answered, picking at the front of his baggy white t-shirt, plaid pyjama-clad legs pulling up so that he could settle cross-legged on the chair. "So what's with you this morning?" he asked, curiosity pricking at him.  
  
"I don't know…" Trunks flicked a few errant strands of hair out of his eyes. "I just woke up thinking…well, thinking about us, I guess. Our lives together. It seems likes such a short amount of time, you know?"  
  
Goten nodded solemnly in response, tapping a fingernail against his coffee mug. "Yeah, I guess it does, doesn't it? When you've known someone your whole life…shouldn't it seem longer?" He trailed off, lost in thought again, and it took Trunks lightly tapping the back of his hand to bring him back to the present.  
  
"Earth to Goten," the older man laughed lightly, waving a finger in front of the other's face, yelping when Goten leaned forward and bit it playfully. "Woah, okay! I get the hint! You can mentally bug out on me whenever you want!" He laughed low in his throat as Goten growled at him, giving his finger a final lick before releasing it.  
  
"Teach you," the dark-haired man sniffed, pretending to turn his nose up at his paler partner.  
  
~Have you ever had the pleasure of watching  
  
a quiet winter's snow slowly gathering  
  
like simple moments adding up?~  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Trunks snorted dismissively. "You know I never learn."  
  
"That's true," Goten lamented. "You're completely impossible. I have no idea why the world in general has declared you a genius…you're clearly a first class idiot."  
  
"First class _something_, anyway," Trunks laughed, snagging Goten's hand and kissing his palm lightly. Goten blinks.  
  
"Hey, do you remember the first winter you kissed me? It wasn't a real kiss, but…almost."  
  
Trunks nodded.  
  
**It was one of the millions of sleep-overs we had; you were at my house this time. It was a school night, so my mom had shooed us into bed pretty early, but I had to get up use the bathroom. I stumbled back into our room, and happened to glance out the window. The world had turned white, reflecting in the porch light. It was snowing…looked like it had been for awhile.  
  
For a few minutes I just stared out the window, hypnotized by the fat flakes slipping out of the black sky, dancing by the window so slowly I knew I could reach out and catch them. But instead I stood at the window, following them with my eyes. I've always loved the snow, the freshness of it, the way it blankets and transforms everything. It could wipe away the worst sin, the worst pain, make everything clean and white again. Mom and Dad had been getting louder in their arguments lately, ever since Gohan left home. But snow…snow is beautifully quiet.  
  
I couldn't stand it any longer; I crouched down next to you and shook you lightly by the shoulder. Your skin was so hot! It always is, when you sleep, like some sort of furnace. You blinked up at me, and I didn't have the words for it then, I just helped you up and pointed out the window. You went to look for yourself, and when you turned back from the window, you had the hugest grin on your face. I came up to join you, and you watched with me for awhile, leaning on my shoulder companionably. I think that winter was the last one when you were actually taller than me.  
  
It was even better contemplating it with you, knowing my best friend in the whole world was sharing this perfect world of soft white. And then you did something that struck me as totally strange…I still, to this day, don't know why you did. You grabbed my hand suddenly, and kissed across the knuckles, your indigo eyes still fixing on the scene outside. Was it an impulse thing, or had you planned that all along?  
  
At 12, it was even more confusing. But you didn't let me dwell on it, instead rushing over to the pile of clothes near my bed. You looked up impatiently at me, face shining with excitement. "Aren't you going to get dressed?" you asked, just exactly as if you hadn't kissed my hand like some prince in a fairy tale. So I got dressed, and we snuck outside, making the first tracks in the new snow silently.  
  
Our snow angels were quickly erased by the huge flakes falling so rapidly, it seemed like the air itself was white. But I remember the bright red flush on your cheeks from the cold, and the little looks you kept giving me while me made a snow fort together, even though you kept telling me, "You know, I'm really too old for this, Goten. I'm a teenager now, this is kid stuff." Didn't slow you down any, did it? And I knew you were thinking about that kiss, too, and the melting feeling in my stomach didn't go away for hours.**  
  
~Have you ever satisfied a gut feeling  
  
to follow a dry dirt road that's beckoning you  
  
to the heart of a shimmering summer's day?~  
  
Trunks sighed softly, and Goten looked up. "You always were winter person, Goten," he opinioned, tapping his lower lip with his forefinger. The darker man just nodded back, tilting his head to the side.  
  
"If I'm winter, then you're summer," he proclaimed.  
  
"Hot, fun, and bright?" Trunks asked.  
  
"I was thinking more of lazy, sweaty, and slow," Goten shot back with an impish grin. Trunks sighed again, this time more melodramatically, holding the back of his hand to his forehead.  
  
"See what I have to put up with? See?" he demanded of the ceiling mournfully.  
  
"_You_ have to put up with? What about me? You're the one who's always got us in trouble! You're the one who goes to work every day and leaves me here _alone_!" Goten's mock wounded tone brought a smile to Trunks' face, and he slapped lightly at Goten's shoulder.  
  
"I go to work to keep you in diamonds and furs, my dahling," he vamped, and Goten keeled over to the side in laughter. "Oh! Do you remember….that summer by the lake, when we found the old mine?"  
  
** I think we must have been in that lake for over two hours. I thought it would take nearly that long to dry out, sitting on that rocky little beach, which is why I suggested we go for a walk. Who can sit still at 16? Well, you could, but not me…I had to get moving, do something!  
  
It was with something like blissful anticipation that I came across that path, hidden in the weeds. It must have been so old...but it only took a little convincing to get you to follow it with me. How could I do it by myself?  
  
"I don't know, Trunks…I think my mom would get pissed if she knew we were wandering away from the campsite."  
  
"Well, who's going to tell her? Not me!"  
  
"Yeah, but what if there's something…I dunno, dangerous down there?"  
  
"Dangerous!? Come _on_, Goten, what could be dangerous to us?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right…"  
  
"Of course I am, I always am! Let's go!" I ignored your skeptical snort, and we took the path together, moving slowly in the wilting summer sun. I don't know how many things we talked about that afternoon…they all seemed so incredibly important at the time, but thinking back, I can only remember how beautiful you looked to me and how happy I was just to be with you, the two of us. Sometimes you walked backwards so you could look at me as we talked, sometimes it was me. The gravelly path was strewn with strange little bits of metal and plastic, like industrial remnants, nestled among tufts of scrubby grass.  
  
When we came across the first of the dilapidated buildings, it was like a secret city, hidden from the world just for us. The way the walls had collapsed in some places, the way the weathered wood had gone a pale grey, a ghost of its former deep umber, it all gave everything a lost, surreal feeling. Further down the path, we found the rusting hulks of old construction machinery, mighty workhorses reduced to skeletons of their former blue-collar glory.  
  
It was the tailings pond, stained an unnaturally brilliant green, that put the final cap on the afternoon. Not the caved in shafts, not the strange, collapsed walkways meant to stretch above the old mine roads, nothing stands out quite so clearly in my memory as that emerald pool. It wasn't the first time I wanted to kiss you, but I think it was the first time the urge was so strong it was physically painful, like a constant cramp in my stomach.  
  
Did you know what I was thinking? You turned to me like you did, in that moment of silence that wasn't awkward or strained, and my fingers tingled with the need to touch your face.**  
  
~Well I have known all these things  
  
and the joys that they can bring.  
  
And I'll share them all for a cup of coffee  
  
and to wear your ring.~  
  
"You know, we could go on like this forever, from moment to moment," Goten commented thoughtfully. "Do you think that's all a relationship is, shared moments?"  
  
"Waxing philosophical, are we?" asked Trunks wryly. "No, I think it must be more than that…don't you?"  
  
"I don't know. There's so much in those moments, though, you know? All the feelings, all the actions, how everything was interpreted…someone from the outside could see all those moments lined up like a movie, and would know almost everything about us. Like looking through a scrap book or a photo album." Goten looked up at his beloved, his face earnest and open.  
  
"Yeah, but there so much more there! I mean…well, don't you feel a spiritual connection, too? Like we were meant to be together? You know I don't believe in fate, but we fit so perfectly together, it seems like someone planned it almost." Trunk knotted his fingers through his hair in frustration, unable to find just the right words.  
  
Goten reached out and touched his face gently. "I know what you mean, of course I feel like there's a deep connection. I just wonder if it comes from something spiritual, or if we made it ourselves, through all the time we've shared, our history together." He glanced down briefly. "I guess you get a really different view of the universe when the guy who's essentially God here on Earth used to play with your big brother when they were kids."  
  
"So you're saying we grew together…like two trees twisting around each other?" Trunks' voice was soft, and Goten looked up with a brilliant smile.  
  
"Yes, that's it exactly!" He restrained himself from clapping like a little girl, instead standing and moving over to the paler man, letting his slender forearms rest on the other's shoulders and leaning down to plant a lazy kiss on his nose. Purring low in his throat, Trunks stretched up a bit to seize the darker man's lips with his own, wrapping brawny arms firmly around Goten's waist, fingers massaging gently at the small of his back. The kiss deepened, becoming an involved interplay of tongues and teeth, and it was the younger man who pulled back first, breathless.  
  
"Coffee's done," he announced, smiling down.  
  
"Mm, I like this wake up better," Trunks rumbled, sliding his hand up Goten's spine to the back of his neck, and pulling him down again.  
  
~And I don't know how I survived those days  
  
before I held your hand.~  
  
Finally Trunks released his willing captive with a throaty laugh, gesturing grandly at the coffee machine. "Fetch your liege some coffee, boy," he decreed imperially, evoking a quick giggle from Goten, and an exaggerated bow.  
  
"As my lord commands," Goten demurred, and grabbed the two mugs, moving over to the black machine, still talking to itself with the occasional little plips and pings.  
  
"You know, if it was fate, wouldn't we have figured things out quicker?" Goten asked as he set down the mugs and turned to the fridge to retrieve the cream.  
  
"Hm, you've got a point," Trunks pondered, leaning his elbow on the table.  
  
"I don't know about you, but I went through a really confusing time there for awhile…"  
  
**I don't know when I started becoming actively jealous of the girls who swarmed around you like bees to honey…it never bothered me that much when I was younger, and they were always there, weren't they? Was it just because adolescence brought insecurity, or was I finally starting to realize that they had potential access to something I wanted to keep for myself? Either way, when we went back to school after that crazy summer, I found myself hating those girls more and more.  
  
I suppose it didn't help that my home life was disintegrating rapidly. Mom and Dad sort of self-destructed, and he left to do something else, never really said what. I had no idea, all I knew was Mom was crying all the time. She tried to be a good mom, but I think it was just one time too many of Dad taking off, and she couldn't hold it together, even for me. I hated going back home in the afternoons, it was like our house was shrouded in some sort of thick black cotton, there was never enough light, and everything felt stifled and stale.  
  
I couldn't even talk to Gohan…he had been so happy to finally just get out of there; what would he say if I dragged him back into it? I never could talk about that stuff. Mom was always asking me, "Are you okay? Are you happy?" So I had to pretend, day in, day out, that I wasn't mixed up, fucked up, and completely depressed.  
  
You were about the only bright spot in my life. The one person who didn't want me to be something else. So was it any surprise that I was jealous of anyone who would take precious time with you away? I think I was just realizing I was in love with you, too, but it got all mixed up with what was going on with my folks, and Gohan.  
  
It was like being on some really awful drug. The times with you, when we were just hanging out, or talking, or doing stuff together, were so high! It was like nothing in the world mattered, if I could just be with you like that. But then, something would happen. You'd run into someone else you knew, or I'd get these weird urges that I didn't know what to do with…and I felt horrible. Worse than anything else, feeling like I was lying to you. I hated that feeling! Guilt and fear and anger, all brewing together in one noxious, poisonous mass that would infect my mind, my thoughts.**  
  
~Well I never thought that I would be the one  
  
to admit that the moon and the sun  
  
shine so much brighter  
  
when seen through two pairs of eyes  
  
then when seen through just one.~  
  
"I think all teenagers feel that way sometimes, though," Trunks commented lightly.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. But it felt like it was worse for me, you know? Like I was all alone." Goten shook his head, leaning up against the counter, cream forgotten behind him. "I'm so glad I never have to go through that again!"  
  
Trunks agreed, "Yeah, being a teenager is pretty goddawful." He stood, walking over to Goten, who had turned around to pull the dainty sugar dish from the cupboard. The older man rubbed lightly at his companion's back, soothing circles as Goten poured two neat cups of steaming coffee.  
  
"But you weren't the only one," he added, letting his forehead rest lightly against the back of Goten's shoulder. "It seems like, at that age, all the choices you make are the wrong ones, and all the mistakes you make are going to scar you for life."  
  
**It had seemed okay at first, when we started fooling around. Just another fun thing to do together. Things were more serious than that for both of us, but I kept lying to myself for some reason, pushed those thoughts about what it meant out of my head. Then you went and told me you loved me. Love-loved me, not just the way we were as kids. Or maybe it was the way we _always_ were.  
  
Something in me just freaked out. Here I was, _me_, your constant companion since you were old enough to run away from your mom, saying I didn't need you, didn't need anybody! I guess all those years of Dad telling me how he relied only on his own strength, that everything else was weak, had gotten into my head. Funny, because watching him taught me something else…he would have never been the man he was without your dad to goad him on.  
  
How long did I play that game? I was so stubborn, pretending you didn't really matter, that when you started sobbing at my harsh words I didn't want to pull you into my arms and kiss everything better, take it all back. One month? Or was it two? I was so often the instigator in our relationship, it took me awhile to get it into my thick skull that I needed you more than maybe even you needed me…I needed an audience, someone to back me up, to go with me, to share everything. What's the point of finding a secret if there's no one to show it to? Where's the fun in playing tag with yourself? Or in talking to yourself? There're no new discoveries there.  
  
I never got approval from my dad, not really. So why didn't I notice that I came to you for it, and you never turned me down, never once told me I was weak, or stupid, or not good enough?**  
  
~Have you ever seen a sight as beautiful  
  
as a face in a crowd of people  
  
that lights up just for you?~  
  
"Okay, so it's unanimous, we were both complete idiots," Goten declared, mixing in a dollop of cream and several generous spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. Trunks scooted the other cup away before it could be polluted.  
  
"Hear, hear," he agreed, wrapping his arms around Goten's waist, resting his head on his back, letting the warmth of the other demi-Saiyan soak into his bare skin. Goten purred, his chest vibrating contentedly as he leaned back, letting his forearms rest solidly across Trunks', trailing butterfly light caresses along the inside line of his elbow.  
  
"Enough of the depressing memories," Trunks murmured in his beloved's back.  
  
"Then tell me a nice story," coaxed Goten. "Or at least a nice memory."  
  
"Hmmm…"  
  
**I graduated a year earlier than you, which I think drove both of us crazy. I guess you didn't like the prospect of facing another year of school without me, and I didn't know _what_ I was going to do: how could I decide without you there with me? I wanted to hate the ceremony, I mean, the whole stupid hat and robe thing…but I think I was secretly just a little thrilled.  
  
When I went up to get my diploma, I looked out into the crowd, and I saw you there with my mom and dad, and your folks, and everybody. It was cool, but you were so far away! My mom was snapping pictures like crazy, and I'm sure Dad was scowling as usual…you know how he hated that kind of thing. Afterwards, there was that big party at our house.  
  
And mom invited all those guys from my class, from our school…it was a pretty packed place. All those girls you hated were there, and lots of guys, too, lots of people to talk to. But when I was talking, I felt…I don't know, disconnected. I _like_ socializing, like talking about nothing much, but none of those people really knew me. They just saw Trunks Briefs, the rich kid. Or the good-looking kid. Or that guy who sits behind me in math. Or the class screw off.  
  
Then I spotted you, sitting over by the drinks table, sucking down what was probably your fifth soda. You were talking quietly with your brother, but when I looked over, it was like you knew it. You turned your head, and just smiled and nodded at me, and it made me so happy I could scream.  
  
You recognized me. You knew who I was, from the inside out, and you wanted to be with me, knowing all that. You didn't want me for what I could give you, or for who I reminded you of, or any of that. You just wanted me. It was the warmest, fullest feeling I've ever had, like when you drink a cup of hot chocolate really fast, like someone told me I could never, ever freeze over again, that I would be warm for the rest of my life.**  
  
~Have you ever felt more fresh or wonderful  
  
as when you wake  
  
by the side of that boy or girl  
  
who has pledged their love to you?~  
  
Goten twisted in Trunks' arms, turning around to face him, smiling down at him softly. "I like that one," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of the shorter man's face.  
  
"Well, I've got a million of them," Trunks whispered back, letting his fingers slip under the hem of Goten's shirt so he could smooth them across bare flesh. "S'why I'm here."  
  
"Really?" Goten asked, his face serious for a moment.  
  
"Yeah, really. I guess you're right. Maybe we are together because of all those moments, added up."  
  
The darker man nodded solemnly. "Not all of them are really significant, either. I mean…like they're not always the big moments in our lives, you know?"  
  
"I know."  
  
**The sun streaming through the bedroom window always caught your hair in this amazing way, making it come alive with amethyst shimmers and deep plum lowlights. I loved waking up earlier than you, so I could just watch you sleep, the way your chest rose and fell with your breath. You lost about ten years every time you slept, you know. But it was different that day.  
  
Just knowing you weren't going to hide it any more, knowing that you were being truthful, most of all with yourself, changed everything. It meant I could watch you now, I didn't have to feel vaguely guilty or creepy when I stared at you during those quiet times, when you were sleeping, or talking, or just staring off into space.  
  
Your eyelashes, they were a darker purple than your hair. In the morning light I could count each individual one, resting gracefully against the line of your cheekbone. The soft purple and blue veins in your eyelids twitched a little, and I wondered what you were dreaming about, and hoped it was me.  
  
Do you know how safe it feels to wake up next to someone you love? Someone you're going to spend your life with? You were my everything, and you were right there, solid in front of my, like some fantastical dream pulled into my world, a wish granted by a genie. But you were real, too, and I had a thousand memories tied up in you, a million different things in my head I could replay, whenever I wanted.  
  
But right then, all I wanted to do was watch the way the light made your skin glow, feel the heat that rolled off your body, smell your breath tickling my nose as I lay on my side, drinking you in.**  
  
~Well I have known all these things  
  
and the joys that they can bring.  
  
And now every morning there's a cup of coffee  
  
and I wear your ring.~  
  
Goten gathered up the two coffee mugs, and set them on the table. Trunks padded after him, and settled down in one of the sturdy walnut chairs, watching as Goten sat down, too. The first sip of the scalding liquid caused the paler man to close his eyes, grinning blissfully over the edge of the cup. Goten, on the other hand, stifled a small yelp, and put his mug down hastily.  
  
"Too hot," he explained ruefully as Trunks looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Ah," the other demi-Saiyan answered, and he reached out, pulling on Goten's left hand, twisting the white gold band on the younger man's finger purposefully. "Do you regret any of it?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Trunks! How can you even ask that?" Goten sounded truly indignant, his obsidian eyes wounded, and he reached over to tap on the matching band that graced the other's finger. Trunks just smiled, taking long fingers into his own and squeezing.  
  
"It's been ten years, beloved. Permit me my little…idiosyncrasies."  
  
Goten sighed, used to the other's questions. He knew they didn't mean anything…they were just a way to coax Goten into talking about their relationship. "No regrets," he assured Trunks. "Not one single one. And I won't have any ten years from now, either!  
  
They interlaced their fingers together, warm palm pressed to warm palm, and sat that way for some time, watching the sun rise over the wooded hills.  
  
-END 


End file.
